The End of All Things
by Yotoberry
Summary: Alphabet hundred word challenge. Joshua/Neku centric. AU. Feat. Fruity language and gentle lemon. Posting two at a time.
1. W M

**M. Mother**

Joshua's mother was serene as always, floating through the kitchen giving no illusion she was the reason her son's grace. Joshua loved his mother. Everyone loved his mother. She ruffled her son's hair as braised aromas wafted up from the plate she laid down. "That Sakuraba boy…" She started gently, hand rested on her childs shoulder. "You love him don't you." Joshua tensed as he realised his secret was out then let himself relax when he heard the approving smile in her voice. It was in that moment Joshua knew he was right not to pull the trigger on himself.

**W. Wings**

Neku's wings were breath-taking, all dangerous and comforting, dark and delicate, lace and razor wire. Joshua would often enter their bedroom in Pork City just to stare at them, tucked tight against his back. His hands ghosted over them, sighing as he felt the power ripple through the bones and feather. Neku tilted his head to smile fondly at his Composer, letting his wings flutter sleepily. "Shibuya cried for you, you know. When it thought you were gone." Joshua's voice, strangled. The orange haired boy nodded his response flatly. "I know. I could feel her… I came back didn't I."


	2. Q P

**Q. Quebec.**

"What about it?" "I just thought we could go one day, take a holiday." Thin arms slip over the ginger boys shoulders, slender fingers fiddling with his treasured music player. Neku had never thought his older partner would want to take a holiday, always insisted that Shibuya was all he'd ever need, all they'd ever need. He sighed as he relaxed back against Joshua's chest. "Isn't that a bit far, what about Okinawa?" "Too hot." "Hokkaido?" "Too cold." "Joshua can you even speak French?" His tone was exasperated now. "Dear, I can barely speak English." Neku's head fell in response.

**P. Putty**

The Composer was strong. The Composer was above all. The Composer was in control, of Shibuya, of himself and damn it, in the bedroom. The Composer was firm. The Composer was loving. The Composer demanded respect. The Composer received respect. The Composer was God incarnate. The Composer would not back down. The Composer was second to no one.

The Composer would not be bound. The Composer would not whimper names as he begged for release. The Composer would not suck on command. The Composer was putty in his Proxy's hands. The Composer was a plaything. The Composer belonged to Neku.


	3. A T

**Just a quick trigger warning for the next two, Abort and Terminal.**

**A. Abort**

Ginger hair. Neku slept around and now there would be twice the hell to pay. Joshua's mind swam with images of the pink haired whore, fixated on their infidelity as if it were being replayed on a screen. Neku would pay. Eri would pay. The child would pay. This was Joshua's world and he could not allow such filth to reside in it.

Who punishes a child for its parent's sins? God does. Joshua is God. He will abort anything that mars his land. The child will atone for the sins of its parents. Shibuya will be pure once more.

**T. Terminal**

He felt numb. Fingers carded through limp hair, thumb caressing a gaunt cheek. Neku stared up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused. "Will you be there?" Voice raspy and near silent. Joshua nodded and felt his insides churn as a smile played on his lovers lips. He wouldn't be. Neku was Angel property, soul refined and shining.

He had begged, pleaded, screamed with the Angels. There would be no more Games, no more chances. It hit Joshua like bricks, that his powers were limited. His proxy would die in his arms and he was powerless, truly powerless to save him.


	4. I V

**I. Igloo**

Neku's nose and cheeks flushed brightly as his mittened hands dug greedily into the powdery ground, compacting and twisting with a grace usually reserved for those who actually did live in snowy climes. Limited edition CAT scarf fluttering in the breeze he crawled out of his new favourite abode, snowball clutched firmly in hand and then swiftly hurled even more firmly at the Composer. Said boy had perched himself rather cautiously on what had previously been the body of a snowman. Cautiousness was indeed wise as he soon found himself snowballed rather unceremoniously off his seat by his guffawing proxy.

**V. Valedictorian**

Joshua found himself positively swimming with pride over Neku's graduation. Whilst he would certainly not admit it to the orange haired boy, he had been watching him these past three years, watched him grow and change into a mould that was completely his own, past what even the Composer in his almighty wisdom had expected of the boy. From his perch in the rafters of the auditorium, he surveyed his group of survivors, taller, more confident, souls shining brighter than before the long game had commenced. The Composer had many triumphs, but none would ever rank higher than these four.


	5. J F

**J. JotM**

Though his clothes may not portray it, Joshua was actually rather fashion conscious. He was simply far more comfortable in his lavender button down and jeans than whatever crop tops and mini skirts the Harajuku boys were wearing these days.

Neku however was not. Rather emphatically not. He had spent a particularly frustrating three days during the Game insisting on wearing nothing but Mus Rattus. Whilst Joshua was eternally thankful that this was now behind them, he did still wish the boy would expand beyond JotM. "Don't try and say you're sporty dear, I've seen you try to lift weights."

**F. Fidget**

Joshua fidgeted. A lot. Neku observed it with curious amusement near every day. No matter the class, nor the company he was always squirming in his seat, fingers tapping out sonatas on his thigh, braiding his fringe. It happened outside too; visits to Sunshine usually ended with a veritable flock of origami swan as the silver haired boy furiously folded burger wrappers. Sometimes it was more subtle though. When it was just the two of them lounging on his bed, his toes would still shuffle in his socks, like he wanted to say something but just didn't have the courage.


	6. D B

**D. Deepen**

They rarely kissed, not any more. Preferring to express desire, and it was really nothing more, through roaming hands and breathy moans. They had kissed at first of course, the older Composer usually initiating it. Shaking pecks and trembling tongues had dominated the first few weeks of their relationship, mouths battling each other for dominance. Neku had won of course. He would always win. The kissing had stopped them, the ginger boy preferring to keep things purely sexual. Sometimes though, when Neku would shake in terror in slumber, Joshua would let their lips connect and the boys sobbing would cease.

**B. Brave**

One could say many things about the Composer, reclined and resplendent in his throne. Dangerous, blasé, reckless and certifiably crazy were often thrown around by people who should have known better and people who already knew too much. None would ever think to call him _brave_. Hanekoma knew better though, regarding the two exhausted boys with a tired smile. Anyone who had screamed at the Angels like he had, willingly accepted censure, practically invited erasure like Joshua had deserved to be called brave. All for the boy resting in his lap. Joshua was powerless, in love and so very brave.


End file.
